Economic Crisis
by StSE
Summary: G1; HYSTERICAL! The fuel crisis hits the Autobots hard, so they all get 'second jobs'. Anything that can go wrong - WILL! Past Chapter 2 - each one is a funny 'one-shot' featuring different bots! This will continue until I run out of Autobots...
1. Chapter 1

This is first season G1, set in the current year – 2008. A little bunny I wrote as I was balancing my family's budget during these hard economic times.

**Economic Downturn**

"_Prime, we need to talk." _Prowl said, his voice deadly serious. He had just come in the office, with Wheeljack and Perceptor in tow.

Optimus put down the paperwork he was working on and gave the Mechs his full attention. _"Must be serious if you Mechs can't wait until I'm done with these incident reports."_

"_Very serious, we're almost broke;" _Prowl began.

"_And we're running low in our reserve energon." _Wheeljack finished for him.

The big red Mech leaned back in his seat; this was indeed a very serious situation. _"I thought sponsorships and donations were more than covering our operating costs?"_

Prowl straddled the chair facing his desk, making room as Ironhide and Huffer stuffed themselves in. _"Well, they were covering our costs. But we require a thousand barrels of crude per month to make the energon we need. That used to be just thirty U.S. dollars per barrel."_

"_Now it's a hundred and thirty per barrel," _Wheeljack piped in.

Prowl nodded. _"So the amount we used to collect only pays for less than twenty-five percent of what we need now. And several of our sponsors have gone out of business or declared bankruptcy, add to that the fact that our private donations have slid by forty percent."_

"_And we've got ourselves a hell of a mess;" _Ironhide drawled. _"Why those ungrateful.."_

"_Shut up Ironhide," _Prime ordered, knowing his friend's standard rant wasn't going to help the situation.

"_We're going to have to shut down, we can't survive like this. I just knew this was going to happen!" _Huffer whined.

Slamming his hands down on the desk, Prime silenced everyone. _"So how much time do we have until we run out of energon?" _he asked Perceptor.

"_After calculating the amount we are still able to bring in, minus the amount we normally go through, and then calculate how much we can save through conservation…" _the scientist was beginning to ramble.

"_Just how much time?!" _Prime demanded.

"_Three weeks," _Perceptor answered.

Groans were heard from around the room. Huffer again started whining, but Ironhide strategically put a hand over the Mech's mouth.

Prime looked around the room. _"Ideas for rectifying this problem?"_

Perceptor's optics lit up. _"We could build another one of our Solar Towers."_

"_We don't have the funds for materials," _Prowl replied.

Ironhide shrugged, _"Why not pull more power off the Hoover dam?"_

"_Vegas is taking most of what they've got, and with the water level so low, the humans have had to start rationing themselves as well;" _Prowl quickly knocked down that idea.

Optimus leaned back, rubbing his chin in thought. _"Why don't we contact our allies in Saudi Arabia, and ask them for more donated oil?"_

"_Tried that, they've cut back what they're giving to us already. Now they just say that we can buy it on the open market like everyone else;" _another idea knocked down by the pragmatic Prowl.

"_What about getting second jobs?" _Sparkplug's voice piped up. He had wandered in unnoticed and had been quietly listening in on the autobots' meeting.

Ironhide was flabbergasted; _"Second jobs?! Why I never.." _

"_It's an idea, that's what we humans do when we run out of money;" _Sparkplug countered, not the least bit intimidated by the old Autobot.

"_Second jobs? I'd never thought of that," _Prowl mused, for the human's idea made some sense.

Huffer's optics got big. _"But what can we do? I don't know how to do anything but fight Decepticons, its hopeless just hopeless."_

"_You Autobots have a lot to offer, we just got to figure out what kind of job fits best with each of your skills." _Sparkplug explained, as he jumped on the desk and sat down. _"Spike and I can help you search the want adds and fill out the applications."_

Prime leaned forward, his chin resting on his hands, watching his Mechs grumble. _"Well, it sounds like the only reasonable option open to us." _turning to Prowl, he nodded. _"Order all the Autobots to attend a meeting tomorrow; we will announce this decision then."_

"_Yes sir." _Prowl said, as he and the others filed back out of the office.

Sparkplug looked at his Autobot friend. _"I think it's going to be as hard on them, as it was on Spike when he got his first job."_

The big red Mech nodded. _"Convincing them is probably going to be the hardest part."_

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	2. jobfair

Job Fair

**Job Fair**

Bright and early the next morning, the Autobots gathered in front of the Ark. Mumbles of what was going to be announced rumbled through the ranks. Optimus slowly made his way to the front of the motley group and explained their dire situation, and the only idea that they'd been able to come up with to rectify it.

The mumbles became grumbles, as most of the Autobots were not highly thrilled with this idea, but yet, none of them could come up with any other viable solutions.

"_Sorry we're late Prime." _Bumblebee stammered, as he pulled up in a cloud of dust and let his two passengers get out.

"_Well I'll be a rusted Con," _exclaimed Ironhide as he looked at the two humans. _"Didn't know a change of clothes could make a human look so different."_

Tracks whistled at the two. _"You guys look like your ready for a night on the town, very impressive."_

Spike and Sparkplug looked at each other, uncomfortable by all the attention that their dress clothes were drawing. Trying to loosen his tie a little, Sparkplug tried to make his starched collar less restrictive. _"Well, I made some calls to some ol' high school buds of mine. Turns out a bunch of them have got jobs in high places now. Several of them are driving in from Vegas today," h_e explained to the Mechs.

Spike grinned in excitement and slapped his dad on the shoulder. _"Turned out that one of dad's old flames is now upper management at the Luxor! She knows everyone! And she's bringing them here!" _

"_Well Autobots, I guess we need to prepare for this job fair. So go and shine yourselves up before these people arrive." _Looking down at his human friends, Optimus nodded his thanks. _"Sparkplug, you have our thanks." _Grinning behind his mask, the Mech continued; _"and you do look very respectable without your hard hat."_

Leaving the meeting, the Autobots began to prepare for their first interviews ever.

**Recruitment**

Around noon, several limos drove down the dusty road toward the Ark. Plumes of whirling desert sand spun lazily in the hot air currents, announcing their arrival even before the Autobot sentries spotted the cars.

Spike and Sparkplug hurriedly put their sport coats back on and ran out to meet them. Opening the doors to the limos for the occupants. A well-dressed, middle-aged woman, laughed as Sparkplug offered his hand for a handshake. Pulling him to her, she gave him a huge hug. _"Now Sparkplug, you knew I was getting a divorce back during our last class reunion, you should've called me a long time ago old friend." _

Sparkplug turned a shade of red matching Ironhide's chassis. He stuttered a reply, but was cut off by Bumblebee coming over and introducing himself to the hotel Manager.

The Manager's name was Janet, and with her contacts she had brought representatives from: FedEx, Las Vegas Police, Nevada State Troopers, Vegas Cab Service, Trans-America Construction, and many others. These individuals eyed the Autobots, deciding which ones would physically fit their job openings. After splitting the Autobots up into the various groups, they began to interview each Mech.

**Last free night**

"_So what'd you get?" _Sideswipe asked Prowl as the Mechs sat around drinking energon and discussing the jobs they would each start the next day.

Prowl cocked his head, looking at the prankster like he was a dunce. _"Cop."_

"_Yep, guess that makes sense. So'd you get state or city?" _the red Lamborghini asked.

Prowl sighed, he was forever surrounded by jokers. _"State. I'll be running with the Commercial Enforcement troop."_

Sideswipe started laughing. _"Hey Huffer, you better not run over weight – or Prowl here will arrest your aft!"_

Huffer just glared back at the jokester, he wasn't thrilled about running a designated FedEx route from Vegas to Burbank, but a job was a job. At least Prime got stuck with the same gig.

Sunstreaker wandered over and sat next to his twin, his foul mood showing on his face. _"I can't believe we're going to be stuck babysitting drunks! They'd better not puke, or I'll throw them out on the road!"_

Bluestreak caught what he was grumbling about, his optics widening in interest, he turned around. _"So what did you two end up getting?"_

Sideswipe grinned. _"Oh that? Sparkplug's old girlfriend got us hired on at the Luxor. We're the official rides for their 'high rollers'," _slapping his twin on his door he chuckled. _"Tell you what brother, I'll take the young ones that like to have a good time – you take the rich old farts that need walkers to get around." _Dodging his brother's cuff, Sideswipe inched closer to Bluestreak.

"_I heard you and Smokescreen got hired on together – so what are your gigs?" h_e whispered, wondering if they'd have as much fun as he thought he was going to.

Bluestreak grinned, _"pace cars. We also get to test the track before every race, see how fast we can go." _

"_Pace cars huh? Sounds like one cool gig!" _Jazz said, overhearing Bluestreak. Blaster sat down next to him. _"Me and 'ol Blaster here got DJ gigs at the Luxor."_

"_We're going to be rockin' down on cool tunes all night long!" _Blaster nodded, giving a high-five to his musical co-hort.

"_Well I'll make sure NOT to take my passengers there. I'll only run the class A club route." _Tracks said, as he walked by them. _"After all, if they pay me to be their high-class ride, then I have to make sure they only get the best."_

After Tracks was out of ear shot, Sideswipe snickered _"I'd hate to hail that cab!" _Everyone nodded in agreement.

"_Did you hear about 'ol Wheeljack?" _Jazz asked them. They all shook their heads. _"ol slogger got a job at the Ford plant; in the Research and Development Division."_

Bluestreak rolled his optics. _"Hope he doesn't blow anything up!" _his statement caused a few of the Autobots to roll on the floor in laughter, for many of Wheeljack's inventions had turned an Autobot black with soot.

Hound came up, his face beaming in excitement. They all asked him what his gig was. _"Oh, I'll be taking tourists out to the Canyons and showing them around," _he answered, his optics showing how pleased he was. Then he whispered; _"did you Mechs hear what Powerglide got?"_

They all shook their heads, leaning in to hear what the cocky plane had gotten stuck with.

"_Crop dusting."_

"_You gotta be kidding!" _Bluestreak snickered, imagining the cocky plane having to fly low and slow.

Hound grinned, _"But that's not as bad as Perceptor's gig."_

"_Oh, do tell us man." _Blaster chimed.

The jeep shrugged, his grin getting bigger. _"Testing water quality at the Sewage Treatment Plant."_

Chuckles went round the group again. _"Anybody know about Bumblebee?" _Sideswipe asked.

"_Oh, him? He's on at the retirement center, driving the old farts to their doctor's appointments." _Smokescreen yelled from across the room.

"_What about Ratchet?" _Hound asked him.

A few Mechs talked for a second, and then Smokescreen answered him. _"He's working EMS duty at the NFL games; the lucky slogger gets sideline tickets!"_

Sideswipe nodded, sounded like fun. _"Did you hear what 'ol Ironhide got?" _he whispered in a low tone.

Leaning towards the red Mech, Bluestreak couldn't wait to hear. _"No, what?"_

Trying to hide back his chuckles, Sideswipe blurted; _"flower delivery."_

The gray Mech's optics got big in amusement. _"You've got to be kidding! Ironhide delivering FLOWERS?!"_

"_Yep."_

A few other Mechs had overheard the conversation; howls of laughter ran through the ranks. Stopping quickly when old Ironhide came in the room; knowing something was amiss, and it probably centered on his employment, the old Mech glared at them. This caused many of them to start chuckling again. _"If any of you sloggers says even one thing – I'm going to fill your mouth with some liquid nitrogen!" _he threatened and stormed out of the room.

Roars of laughter began after the doors closed.

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	3. Inferno to the rescue

Fire Truck Request

**Fire Truck Request**

The metal clang of a running Mech approaching him, caused Inferno to look up from the last fire hydrant he was testing. A smile crossed his face as he saw who it was.

"_So you missed me that quickly?" _he joked to his bond mate.

Red Alert stopped in his tracks, glaring at the Mech. _"No. Do you think I can't handle Autobot communications without you?" _he snorted derisively and crossed his arms.

Inferno stood up, cocking his head in amusement. _"Then just why did you come and find me?"_

"_We've got a situation." _

"_Why didn't you just radio me then?"_

The Mech shifted uncomfortably. _"Well, Perceptor didn't want me to say anything over the radio about this."_

"_About what?" _Inferno was really curious now.

"_Um, Perceptor slipped over at the Treatment Plant."_

"_So?" _he shrugged, not knowing why the scientist would need a fire truck's help for a mere slip.

Red Alert was trying to keep a straight face. _"He fell and ended up in one of the settling pools." _

"_You've got to be kidding!" _Inferno exclaimed.

His bond mate's hysterical laughing answered his question.

Inferno pictured the scientist, covered in human waste, he couldn't resist the urge – and fell on the ground – rolling in laughter. _"So I guess…he, he…. That he needs me to… he, he… wash him off?..." _

His bond mate was snickering, still trying to regain some kind of composure. _"That's right."_

The fire truck finally composed himself and sat up. Radioing Perceptor on a private frequency, he informed the scientist that he'd be over shortly – to check some fire hydrants, of course. Turning to Red Alert, he burst out laughing again.

**Just a Little Slip**

Inferno pulled up, promising himself that he wouldn't laugh in the poor scientist's face. But as he connected to one of the fire hydrants, he spotted Perceptor walking towards him. The scientist was now covered head-to-toe in sewage, wet shreds of toilet paper glued to his armor, and stinking so bad – that Inferno quickly deactivated his own olfactory sensors. It took all of his willpower to contain his snickers.

Perceptor gave Inferno and appreciative smile. _"Thanks for coming Inferno. I just stepped a little too close to the edge while I was pulling samples for microbial analysis, and…."_

"_Ah, don't mention it." _Inferno cut him off, not wanting the scientist to start rambling. _"So where am I supposed to wash you off?" _since he'd just gone through HAZMAT training with the human Fire Department – he knew he'd get fined if he just washed the Mech off in the road.

"_Oh, why yes, we wouldn't want to chance possible contamination of the local soils with micro-organisms which…" _Perceptor began.

Inferno cut him off again, _"just where? I've got to get back on shift, so I don't have all day."  
_

The crap-covered scientist looked around; _"well, I guess if I stand next to the number five settling pool, on the concrete – you can power spray all of this back into the pool."_

Inferno nodded his agreement and connected a few more fire hoses in order to get the water where it was needed. Then he followed Perceptor up to the side of the settling pool. _"Well, pressure will be pretty strong, so you'd better get on your hands and knees – so I don't spray you right back in there;" _he advised the Mech.

So with the poor scientist on his hands and knees, Inferno pressure sprayed the stinking crap off of him. Then he made the Mech turn around, and did that side. Still trying to contain his snickers, he finished the cleanup by spraying the concrete off as well.

Perceptor finally stood up, still mildly reeking of sewage. _"I'd recommend you meet with Sunstreaker at the car wash and use some soap. I know he was griping over the radio about some High Roller spilling a drink on him today;" _Inferno offered.

The scientist sniffed a little bit, realizing that he indeed had an odor. _"Well, I guess it could be explained by my proximity to the gases for an extended period of time…"_

"_Just do it, before you come back to the Ark – Ok?" _Inferno already had his hoses rolled up, and was heading back to the Fire Station he was assigned to.

As he turned onto the main road, Inferno began to laugh hysterically again. He couldn't wait to tell this one to the other Fire Fighters back at the Station; for this was so much better than the standard 'Cat in the Tree' stories they were always laughing over!

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	4. Traffic Citations

Five Alarm

**Five Alarm**

The alarms clanged, echoing throughout the Fire Station. The human Fire Fighters all slid into their protective gear and jumped in the engines. _"This is a big one! We're the fifth Station called on it!" _the captain yelled as he slid into Inferno's passenger side.

The Mech was excited, for there was nothing he liked more than fighting a really big blaze. Waiting until the other Fire Trucks pulled out of the Station, the big Ladder Truck whipped out into traffic.

Traffic was heavy, even with the other drivers trying to pull to the right lanes in order to get out of the emergency vehicles' way – the Fire Trucks had to swerve through the tight traffic. Being the largest and least maneuverable, Inferno was soon left behind; impatiently, having to wait for traffic to move enough to let him through.

The Captain patted his dashboard, _"ah, don't worry, it's always like this in mid-day traffic, we'll get there."_

"_Why don't we try the new bypass?" _one of the Fire Fighters in the backseat asked.

His friend nodded; _"It's still under construction, but I went through there on the way in this morning, they've got enough paved to let us through – and there's very little traffic."_

"_Ok, sounds good. Inferno, take a right at the next light – then a left toward the interstate. That'll get us to the new bypass section;" _Ordered the Captain.

Swinging wide around the next intersection, Inferno laid on the gas as the traffic cleared in front of him. As they approached the construction zone, the sounds of heavy road-paving equipment and mechanized jackhammers – drowned out the sound of his approaching sirens. But the Mech was so excited over his first five alarm, he never noticed, never slowed down.

**End of the Route**

Optimus Prime was cruising down the interstate pulling the double trailer toward the Fed Ex depot. He'd been working all night straight and was totally exhausted. First, he'd driven from Vegas to Burbank, and now he was on the return trip. The load back primarily consisted of flowers going to the local florists, since Valentine's was in just five more days, so it wasn't a heavy load by any means – just bulky.

Grinning inside, he thought about his old buddy, Ironhide – having to deliver these flowers to their final recipients. A chuckle ran through him, for he'd never imagined the gruff old warrior carrying a load of arrangements and roses. A humorous vision of happy human women, giving the old Mech hugs in gratitude filled his CPU; as he turned off the interstate and headed toward the new bypass – which was the most direct route to the Fed Ex depot.

The loud noise of the construction zone filled his audios. The turns so tight, that the second trailer was encroaching slightly into the oncoming traffic lane; since there was little traffic in this zone, Prime didn't worry much. Keeping a steady speed, he negotiated the blind curves with ease.

**Meeting **

Flying around the blind curves, Inferno was busy thinking about the blaze he was soon to fight. Almost to the interstate, he cut into the other lane as he swung tightly through the curve. Suddenly, a red semi was in that lane! Neither one being able to stop, or swerve! They crashed head-on.

Groaning, Inferno checked to make sure the Fire Fighters were Ok. Fortunately, they had already put on their helmets, since they had been less than three minutes from the fire. So with their full gear on, no one had sustained any injuries.

"_Wow, we'd better check the other vehicle!" _the Captain ordered, seeing the overturned semi and boxes thrown about the road.

As the Fire Fighters climbed out of Inferno, the sounds of groaning came from the overturned rig. The Mech thought he recognized the voice. _"Prime?" _he asked.

"_Inferno?" _the big Mech groaned, _"what happened?"_

Not able to transform yet, until the cops got there and made their report, Inferno stayed in vehicle mode while his fellow Fire Fighters looked bemusedly at the two Mechs. _"I'd say we were involved in a head-on collision," _he explained to Prime. _"Do you have a driver with you?" _he asked.

"_No, just me on this trip." _The red Mech said, _"Damn, feels like I went one-on-one with Motormaster!"_

Inferno chuckled, _"I feel you on that one. Wonder which of us is at fault on this one?"_

"_Both of you sloggers are at fault." _Prowl's voice answered their question, he pulled up and transformed, putting his hands on his hips and glowering at both overturned vehicles. Since he was part of the Commercial Vehicle Enforcement division, and was the closest to the scene – he'd been the one to answer the call. Walking around them, he snapped the required pictures, as he stepped over the boxes and strewn flowers.

"_Boy, I can feel the sympathy." _Inferno mumbled, sensing Prime's agreement.

Hearing him, Prowl slapped the side of his cab. _"Considering that both of you were using excessive speed in a construction zone, encroaching upon the lane of oncoming traffic, and not bothering to pay attention – I should do much more than just give you two tickets.."_

"_You're going to ticket us?" _Prime asked; his tone incredulous.

Inferno chuckled, _"Doesn't even ask if we're functional – and starts writing those freagin' tickets. Is Prowl on a power-trip or what?"_

Finished with his photo taking and his incident report, Prowl was finishing up the traffic citations to give the two. Hearing Inferno's comment he glared at the Ladder Truck. _"I'm just doing my job – unlike you two." _He put the tickets under their windshield wipers and stalked off. _"Now, you two get to reload all of this stuff back into those trailers. I better not find one flower left on this road – or it's littering."_

Slowly, the two Mechs transformed. Sitting up, the two red Mechs stared after the Cop in total disbelief. Then looked at each other and began to laugh. Inferno stood up and helped Prime to his feet. Slapping his Commander on the shoulder he whispered; _"Please don't leave him in full Command – ever!"_

Shaking his head in disbelief over the ticket stuck under his windshield wiper blades, Prime agreed. _"I wonder if we'll just get drivers school for our first offense?"_

As Inferno helped Prime right the trailers, he chuckled; _"Let's hope so."_

Picking up a torn box of flowers, Optimus grinned and handed it to the Fire Truck. _"Need a Valentine's day gift for Red Alert?"_

_--_

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	5. Huffer's stuck at work

Stuck at Work

**Stuck at Work**

"_Hey Blaster, where's Huffer? He should be back on shift by now." _Prime asked, a little worried about the small Mech.

Blaster shrugged, he was at the end of his shift at the Ark. His optics gleaming at the thought of pulling his shift at the Luxor, nothing but solid music! Truly his dream job if there ever was one! _"Fed Ex left a message, but I didn't understand much of it. Real scientific lingo; but Perceptor will be back from work any minute now, so I figure he can decipher it for us."_

Prime sat down in front of their main console, relieving Blaster. _"Ok, guess I'll find out then. Have fun at work." _

"_Oh, the MC Blaster always rocks the house man!" _the Mech joked as he transformed and caught his ride.

Watching Jazz spin rubber and zoom out of the Ark, Optimus chuckled. At least those two were really enjoying their second jobs!

Hound came in, barely avoiding a collision with the excited Jazz. Chuckling, the laid back jeep pulled up to Prime as Perceptor transformed and leaped out.

"_Thanks for the ride home, Hound." _The scientist said, happy that he'd had a quiet shift – with no slips.

Transforming, Hound grinned and slapped the thin red Mech on his shoulder. _"No problem. Maybe you'd like to come on the tour some time? The humans would love your explanations of the native wildlife."_

Perceptor nodded thoughtfully as Hound strolled away, looking for Beechcomber.

"_Perceptor, I need you to read this and tell me what it's about." _Optimus said, throwing the printout to the scientist.

Sitting across from his Commander, Perceptor read the printout. His expression becoming one of intense concern; _"Well, this isn't good, isn't good at all.." _he muttered to himself.

Curious, Prime leaned forward. _"What's not good?" _he asked.

Perceptor had forgotten he was sitting there, and he looked up with a start. _"Oh, well, it'll be quite a while before Huffer is out of decontamination procedures."_

"_Decontamination procedures? For what?" _Prime asked, his optics getting larger.

"_Um, you see, there seems to have been some kind of white powder that was shipped to a City leader in Vegas. They suspect it's possibly a dormant form of Anthrax spore, which if true could cause the entire city hall to be…" _Perceptor began to ramble.

Cutting him off, Prime asked; _"So what does this have to do with Huffer?"_

Perceptor looked at him, mildly confused why he couldn't see the clear connection between this and Huffer. _"Well, it seems they shipped this package via Fed Ex, and after going through all of the shipping records, the authorities have deduced that Huffer was one of the trucks which carried the package."_

Eyeing him, Prime shrugged, still not understanding just why Huffer couldn't come back yet. _"But we're not affected by this spore are we?"_

"_Well, no; but if we are carrying it on our metal surfaces, then we can conceivably become vectors of infection for large numbers of humans. So the authorities have to decontaminate every possible piece of equipment that the package came in contact with."_

"_So I guess I've got to pull a double shift here, then." _Prime grumbled slightly, knowing Huffer would most likely miss his shift at the Ark.

Perceptor shrugged, _"that appears to be the case."_

--

"_Can I go now?" _the small semi whined.

The HAZMAT crews around him shook their heads, as they began to spray him with the sanitization foam. Swiftly, he was coated; both inside his cab and out.

"_This stings! It's going to eat through my seat covers. I knew this job was a bad idea, I just knew it." _Huffer continued to whine.

Then the humans began to power spray him off. This just served to further add to the Mech's misery.

"_You're going to strip my paint off! Then I'm going to rust, I just know I am." _The Mech shuddered with self-pity. He moaned again, not believing his luck. But then, he always did have luck like this, didn't he?

As the humans finally let him leave the decontamination facility, he grumbled as he drove back to the Ark. His interior was now sopping wet, and it'd take him days – yes days! Of driving sixty with his windows down; to get his interior dry again. And it'd probably start rusting before then anyways.

Continuing to silently grumble, Huffer didn't notice the gaping pothole before – BAM! – hit it full on with his right front tire. Cussing now, the unhappy Mech restarted and began to drive again. But he couldn't, he had just broke a tie rod. Now, very unhappy, he radioed to the Ark for a tow.

This just wasn't his day, just wasn't! And it was all because of that stupid job he'd had to take. He'd told them all that it was pointless, and now it had caused him all this trouble.

Huffer continued to silently grumble as he waited for Hoist.

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	6. Angry enough to

Angry enough to…

**Angry enough to….**

Prowl flew in as fast as his wheels could carry him. His tires squealed as he turned fast to avoid Prime, which caused him to skid terribly. Almost hitting the wall, he recovered. Tires smoked as he flew by.

Optimus and Smokescreen looked at each other, as they turned and watched the swiftly retreating form of the police Mech. _"Wonder what's up with him?" _the smaller Mech commented.

Turning his head towards Smokescreen, Optimus was just about to reply. Suddenly, something hit his legs from the back, causing the big red Mech to tumble backwards. As his aft hit the ground, he caught sight of Tracks flying after Prowl.

"_What in Vector Sigma is…." _Prime began as he started to get back on his feet. Only to have Sunstreaker run into him at full speed; as Prime's aft hit the ground yet another time. Sunstreaker disappeared around the corner, the smell of burning rubber left in his wake.

Looking around very warily, Optimus took Smokescreen's offered hand and stood up. _"The question is: do WE want to know what they're up to?" _Smokescreen joked.

Rubbing his aft, Prime just shook his head. _"I'm just hopeful there's no other Mechs involved in whatever it is."_

There was the sound of yelling, of metal hitting metal, then suddenly Prowl was flying back the other direction at full speed. Optimus and Smokescreen threw themselves to the side, as the crazed Mech blew by them – Tracks and Sunstreaker hot on his tailpipes.

The two on-duty officers picked themselves off of the ground. _"Well, at least they didn't hit you this time," _Smokescreen chuckled.

Optimus nodded, _"I think enough is enough, we've got to stop whatever's going on here. Before the nitwits destroy something with their antics."_

"_Ya, guess we should;" _Smokescreen agreed, transforming and following Prime.

By the time they got outside, a full fistfight was going on. With both Tracks and Sunstreaker ganging up on Prowl, they tumbled as they cursed, punches hitting their mark. To his credit, Prowl was actually able to hold his own against the two enraged Mechs.

Prime hollered for them to stop, but he was completely ignored. Striding up, the powerful Mech grabbing Sunstreaker by his doors and threw him as hard as he could. As the first Mech left his hands, he grabbed Prowl and threw him in the opposite direction. Then he grabbed Tracks, fighting to keep a hold on the twisting and turning Mech.

"_I'm so not done with you, you slogger!" _Sunstreaker hollered, and started back toward Prowl. Smokescreen and Bluestreak caught the pissed off Mech, barely able to hold him back.

Tracks struggled some more. _"When I get loose, I'm going to give you a whole new look – you prick!"_

"_Ok, silence! All of you!" _Optimus bellowed. Now he was completely fed up with this entire mess. Glaring at all three of them he asked; _"So what is going on here?"_

Prowl glared at the two Mechs being restrained. _"They assaulted a police officer. I'm going to have them arrested now."_

"_Why you son-of-a…" _Prime put his hand over Track's mouth before the Mech could finish.

Sunstreaker broke free of the two holding them. They ended up tackling the Mech to get him back in restraint. _"Get the freagin' off me. Prowl needs his tailpipes rearranged!" _the yellow Mech snarled, glaring at Smokescreen and Bluestreak – who were both sitting on top of him.

"_All of you – silence! And Prowl, you are not going to arrest any Mech!" _Prime ordered.

Prowl crossed his arms, looking haughtily at the two restrained Mechs. _"They assaulted a cop, so by human law…"_

"_Your 'human law' can kiss my aft! You were off work you prick!" _Sunstreaker cussed.

Shaking his head at the entire mess, Prime considered throwing all three of them into the brig – until they all calmed down. Then relief filled him, as he saw Sideswipe flying towards them. He knew that Mech would know what was going on here.

Transforming, Sideswipe noticed his twin being held to the ground and Tracks being restrained by Prime. _"Sorry they got here before you got my message," _he apologized to Prime.

"_Message? About what?" _Smokescreen asked.

Sideswipe nodded towards Prowl; _"Well, Mr. High-n-Mighty Coper here – seems to get a thrill handing tickets out to every Mech he can." _The red and black Mech chuckled, because he was one of the few who HADN'T gotten one of those tickets. _"So, everybody was waiting around to kick his aft when he got off shift."_

Prowl glared at him, puffing up like a rooster. _"Just because I'm off shift doesn't mean…" _

"_Silence!" _Prime ordered, cutting Prowl off.

Smokescreen and Bluestreak began to howl with laughter; for they knew that Prowl had started the day by handing Prime and Inferno tickets. Cutting a look sideways at the two, Prime gave them his 'shutup now' look. Still shuddering with silent laughter, the two tried to control themselves.

Turning his head to Prowl, Prime studied him. _"Perhaps you need to change jobs, Prowl. You do seem to a little too eager. Maybe a security gig would be better?"_

Prowl glared at him, then realized that Prime wasn't really suggesting a job change, he was ordering it. Lowering his optics, he realized he had pushed things a little too far. _"Sorry Prime, I'll do as you order." _Transforming, he drove off before they let the other two Mechs go.

"_And you two are NOT going to touch Prowl, do you understand?" _Prime ordered, glaring at the two Mechs standing next to each other.

Looking down at their feet, Tracks and Sunstreaker grudgingly agreed to his order.

Sideswipe slapped Bluestreak on his shoulder. "_So what were you two laughing so hard at?" _he asked.

Bluestreak couldn't hold it back. _"He, he, Prime got ticketed too!" _and with that, he and Smokescreen fell back into hysterical laughter.

Prime just shook his head in exacerbation, turned, and went back to the Ark. The sounds of hysterical laughter increased, as the other three Mechs joined in.

--

_**Footnote: **I'm 'tweeking' three more chapters. But I can't decide on which one should be next. One deals with Red Alert, another Ratchet and the last one Wheeljack... sigh... what do you think?_

_--_

Please review..


	7. Wanna be a Cowboy

Longhorn Rodeo

**Longhorn Rodeo**

Red Alert scanned the crowd, taking a tally of how many occupants were filling the stands and cross-referencing this with the information that the Fire Marshals office had given him concerning maximum occupancy. It was his job as the representative of the local Fire Marshals office, to make sure that all regulations were followed to the tee. And his human captain had emphasized 'to the tee'.

_I am going to be so covered in dust by the end of this shift; I'll have to pass a security check to get back into the Ark! _He thought sarcastically. It wasn't really the dust kicked up by the immense crowd that bothered him, it was the dust kicked up by the livestock kept in the pens. For that dust was mixed with manure, creating a cloud that not only clogged up his intakes – but smelled horribly as well. _Guess I'll have to spend some of my hard-earned pay at the car wash! _He silently grumbled.

Ok, the stands were now packed and that anthem they always played at the beginning of these things began. His audios picked up the sound of a stampede; but it was just all the cowboys on their horses galloping round the arena behind the one carrying the flag.

Dampening his intakes, he tried his best to shut off the flow of the dust storm that those cowboys were kicking up. It didn't work, and the Autobot found himself coughing and sputtering while he gasped for oxygen. How these blasted humans thought this was FUN – he had no idea!

"_Hey Red Alert, why don't you position yourself on the far side? I'll take over here," _his human partner offered.

Thankful that at least SOMEONE cared a little about his filtration system, Red Alert eagerly went over to the far side of the arena. He was now upwind of the dust storm, but unfortunately, right next to the stinking cattle pens. Sighing, he didn't know which was worst – stench or dust?

As the rodeo went on, Red Alert began to consider all cowboys as being ranting raving idiots without a lick of sense! What human, or Mech for that matter, would willingly climb on top of a creature ten times their own weight? Who absolutely did NOT want them on top of it! The sheer stupidity of it all, made him roll his optics.

After calling for the second ambulance to come and pick up another bull rider who'd been smashed into the dust under his 'mount's' enraged cloven hooves; Red Alert was completely convinced that all of these guys needed to be admitted for psychiatric evaluations. He considered mentioning this to his Fire Marshal partner as soon as it was over.

Then a flash in the distance caught his optics. There was a pop-up thunderstorm in the area. Remembering that his orders were to stop the rodeo if the thunderstorm came within ten miles of the facility, he quickly calculated the distance. It was twenty miles away.

Sighing sadly, since he'd really like to cancel this whole exercise in human stupidity, he turned his optics back to the action.

They were now doing something called steer wrestling. To his optics, this event looked even more ridiculous than the bull riding. These nut cases were jumping off horses at thirty MPH, grabbing the horns of these big steers, and trying to twist the big creature to the ground. He tried to picture Bumblebee jumping out of Prime's window and trying to do this to Sludge; this vision caused the Mech to fall into a quiet chuckle. Granted, Autobots were much more intelligent than these cowboys – so it'd never happen anyways.

Suddenly, the entire rodeo lit up and he was knocked to the ground by the sonic boom of a thunderclap. His first thought was that the Decepticons had attacked, so he struggled to pull out his weapon. But as his sensors reset, he realized that a stray bolt of lightning had hit in the parking lot!

The crowd panicked, flooding out of the stands like a tidal wave. Horses whinnied in fear. Many of the horses, whom were tethered to trailers, broke their halters and stampeded toward him. Most of the 'catch horses' were tied to the livestock panels. These horses also freaked, many of them dragging the panels as they reared and tried to break loose. This in turn, caused the cattle to panic as their enclosures moved; hitting them while the individual panels began to break loose.

A true stampede of horses and cattle was headed straight towards the shocked Mech!

Having absolutely no clue about what to do, he dove to the side, figuring that the panicked livestock would just go around him. They didn't! Several horses jumped right over him, leading a charge of bulls. These weren't nearly as agile as the horses. Several rammed the Mech, others tried to leap, but ended up climbing over him. Then a few more horses tried to jump him, but these were still tied to panels which they were dragging.

The panels got hung on the Mech, so with panicked horses rearing and hitting him with their metal-covered hooves on one side – and the panels banging against him on his other side. The Mech tried to get up.

"_Don't move! You'll panic them worse! Don't move!" _Several cowboys yelled at him. They climbed on top of him with their pocket knives out, desperately trying to cut the lead ropes in half. A few others went to his other side, grabbing hold of the trapped horses and trying to calm them down.

As they were cut loose, cowboys jumped on those few remaining mounts and went galloping after the rest of the stampeding livestock.

"_Transform Red Alert, ya gotta help them round them up!" _his human partner yelled as he ran up to the totally confused Mech.

Trying to detangle himself from the twisted panels, Red Alert grumbled; _"But THEY know what to do! I don't!" _

"_Just copy them. You've got to circle around and herd the livestock back this way!"_

Transforming, Red Alert went after the disappearing group of cowboys and runaway livestock.

**Later… Back at the Ark**

"_Dang it Red Alert! What in Vector Sigma were you thinking?" _Ratchet griped, rapping the Mech on the helm with a wrench while he surveyed his damage.

Red Alert shrugged, _"I told them that I had no clue, but they ordered me to help. So what was I supposed to do? Say no?"_

The medic grumbled some more. Almost every panel on the Mech's vehicle mode was damaged. With horse shoe shaped dents everywhere. And what the horses didn't damage, the long horns had! _"Now you need all new windows, emergency lights, and I haven't even started figuring on your body damage!" _He hit Red Alert on the head again, just a little harder.

"_Ouch, quit that! Keep it up; I'll need a new helm too!" _Red Alert griped.

Ratchet went over to his computer consol, getting the estimates on the parts he'd need. The medic still mumbling something about stupidity under his breath.

Red Alert felt a hand on his shoulder, looking up; he relaxed as he met his bond mate's optics. Surely, Inferno would have some sympathy for him!

Inferno looked him over, and then stared him right in the optics. _"You really shouldn't go and try to be a cowboy at your very first rodeo!"_

Red Alert glared at the engine, giving him his best 'eat slag and die' look.

Chuckling, Inferno casually tossed him something. Catching the box, Red Alert stared at its contents in confusion.

"_It was supposed to be a Valentine's Day gift, but I guess it's a Get Well Soon." _Inferno chuckled as he left the repair bay.

Staring down at the shipping box filled with flowers, the Security Officer had absolutely no clue as to what to think about it all.

--

_**Note: **__Since the 'votes' were evenly divided – I had my kids pull straws.. For the next chapter we have the choice of: Wheeljack, Ratchet or Blaster. Taking votes now!_

_--_

_Please review…_


	8. Going for a Field Goal

Going for a Field Goal

**Going for a Touch Down**

_This is the only game that can play for less than an hour – and last for four! _Ratchet thought as the referees stopped the game yet again, to go look at an instant replay.

The Mech could've told him that guy's feet were both in when he'd caught that ball; it was so obvious to his sharp optics as he sat there parked right outside of the end zone. But they didn't hire him to be a referee, they hired him to transport any injured people to the hospital. The two human paramedics that were assigned with him were happily sitting on his hood. Thoroughly enjoying the game!'

"_So what do you call?" _Jack asked him, patting his hood.

"_In bounds," _though the Mech enjoyed being asked, he really didn't care for the game.

Brad humphed, for he was supporting the other team. Jack patted him on the back, telling him it'd be Ok. Brad was just going to owe him a beer later.

Ratchet chuckled, it still amazed him that humans could be vehemently on opposite sides – but still joke and get along with no ill feelings. He wished the Decepticons could learn to do that!

The crowd roared, the game was finally over! Ratchet expected them to start filing out like they normally did, but the roar got louder. More boos and hisses could be heard. And the loosing team's supporters seemed to flood out of the stands like a tsunami!

"_Oh crap, we got a riot!" _Jack shouted.

The lower exits were already blocked with an ocean of fans. Ratchet was beginning to get surrounded. Transforming, he grabbed Jack and Brad and set them on his shoulders. Carefully, he tried to walk over the crowd, trying not to step on anyone.

As he got near the field goal, Ratchet felt humans grabbing onto his legs. Looking down, he couldn't believe his optics! The darned rioters were climbing him! He plucked a few off, tossing them gently down. But for every one he plucked off, three more took his place.

Cussing, Ratchet felt people climbing up his back. He wanted to bat them off, but he knew he'd hurt the stupid drunk humans. Then more were climbing up his torso.

He felt his knees begin to buckle under the added weight of the dozen or so humans climbing him. Reaching out, he grabbed for the field goal, planning to use it to steady himself. His fingers locked around the sturdy metal structure.

As he leaned against the field goal, he realized it was moving. Not built to handle the weight of a Mech leaning against it, the field goal twisted at its base and began to fall.

Realizing his error, Ratchet tried to push the field goal back upright. This just served to further loosen its base. Now it was swaying from side-to-side.

"_You've gotta keep it upright until security clears out the rioters!" _Brad yelled, as he kicked off some more unauthorized personnel that were trying to climb onto Ratchet's shoulder.

Jack pushed off another painted up, intoxicated fan. _"Brad's right, if it falls, it'll land on someone!"_

Cussing under his breath, Ratchet slowly made his way to the base of the teetering field goal. Putting one hand on either side, he tried to balance the danged thing. His hydraulics strained as he held the goal post stable for the fifteen minutes it took security to get the rioters somewhat under control.

As they were cleared from around him, Ratchet let go of the goal post. The field goal came crashing to the ground. Stepping over the fallen goal, Ratchet transformed and he and the paramedics went back to work. They now had a lot of patients, since there were a lot of injured rioters to attend to.

**Top Story**

"_Aye, congrats on that field goal!" _Sideswipe said cheerily, as he smacked Ratchet on a door.

Ratchet glared at the Mech, he had no earthly idea what the prankster was talking about.

Ironhide rounded the corner, seeing the medic, his optics lit up. _"Hey Ratchet," _he drawled. _"Did that count as a field goal or a touch down?"_

"_What the heck are you two talking about?" _Ratchet demanded to know. He hated to be the butt of a joke and not even know what the joke was!

Brawl strolled up, smacking the medic so hard, he almost fell over. _"That was really impressive, Ratchet!"_

Alright, now Ratchet was very perturbed. Pushing past the Mechs, he strode to the main control room. Demanding to know just what in the devil was going on!

Optimus turned around, cocking his head in amusement at the medic. _"Amazing how the results of the game are at the end of the broadcast – but our medic was at the very start!"_

"_What?!" _Ratchet asked, incredulously.

Jazz and Prime moved to the side, and the six o'clock broadcast was just beginning. Sure enough there was clear footage of Ratchet stepping over the goal post, with the caption: _First Autobot Touch Down._

_--_

_**Note: **Got writer's block on the Blaster one - but I've got an idea now! (imagine Blaster groaning in anticipation!).. But I've got a few more ready.. so here's your choices: Wheeljack or Brawn? Taking votes now..._

_Please review…_


	9. Smoke in the Factory

Smoke in the Factory

**Smoke in the Factory**

The head engineer threw the Mech a tablet of observation sheets. _"Wheeljack; run those engines at six thousand RPMs for ten minutes straight. We need to see how much heat builds up." _Turning on his heel, the man strode out to the next set of experimenters.

Seemed like an easy enough assignment, a little boring, but the Mech knew he'd have to work his way up the corporate ladder just like everyone else. Then he'd show them some really cool stuff! So he set up the four identical experimental 4-cylinder engines and put the high-grade gas in them.

Tapping a few things on the computer consol, he initiated the test sequence. As the engines revved to the high RPMs required, he walked around, keeping track of the heat build-up. _"Hmm, 225 – that's good…. 235.5 – good… 233.4 – good… 238 – good.." _he mumbled as he walked from engine to engine.

The test was over, results were good. The engineer came by to pick them up. _"This time, we need to simulate a more realistic sequence. Go 6 for five, drop to 4 for two, up to 6.5 for 3."_

"_I'm all outt've fuel for the engines," _Wheeljack reported.

The man looked up at him, and then nodded down the hall. _"They just filled the underground tanks, so just phone a request and a service man will bring you what you need."_

"_Thanks," _the Mech said to the Engineer as he walked away.

Putting a call in for the gas, Wheeljack drummed his fingers in boredom as he waited. _Well, at least I'm paid to be bored! _He thought.

The service man came in and filled up the testing lab's tanks. Nodding at the Mech, the younger man walked out.

Fueling the engines for the last test of the day, Wheeljack initiated the computer sequence for the test. The engines started and began their steady hum. As Wheeljack walked and checked temp readings, his audios picked up some sputtering in Engine #2. Walking over, he was leaning over it trying to figure out what was going on – when a headgasket blew. Smoke filled the room quickly as the Mech pushed the emergency shutoff for that engine.

Just as he had that engine shut down, an ominous change in the hum of Engine #4 caught his attention. Darting over to it, he was trying to figure out what was happening. Suddenly, the engine started vibrating terribly. Then a loud pop, then it rocked with a loud knocking sound. Before he could shut it down – it threw its rod, straight through the end of the block!

The rod catapulted towards him, the Mech barely able to duck in time! Then it hit the far wall, and sank 4 inches into the cinder block. Standing back up, Wheeljack stared at the still vibrating rod in total shock!

Standing there with his mouth open in amazement, Wheeljack's optics widened in fear as he heard Engine #1 begin to change hums. Dashing to the engine, he punched in the emergency stop sequence. But even as he did it, the rubber seals dissolved, and fuel spewed all over the engine. The heat from the engine immediately caused the fuel to ignite.

Wheeljack backed up in shock! Fortunately, the lab's automatic fire suppressant system activated. It proceeded to coat the entire lab and the Mech in the fire suppressant foam.

**Later.. Back at the Ark**

"_Hey, thanks Sunstreaker, I really owe you one;" _Wheeljack said.

The yellow Mech was busy scrubbing all of the foam off him, and grumbling about what they'd need to get the black soot off of him – without damaging his finish.

Perceptor walked in, looking curiously at the inventor. _"So what happened to cause the fire?"_

Shrugging, Wheeljack looked up at the thin red Mech. _"They think the last fuel truck put an ethanol-blend instead of the standard pure gasoline into the main underground tank. They're testing it now."_

"_Well, that would indeed explain some of the breakdowns you observed. If those engines were only engineered for pure gasoline and they ran ethanol in them, then the added heat from the alcohol burning coupled with the corrosive effects of the alcohol on the rubber seals.."_

"_Ok, Ok – we know!" _Sunstreaker abruptly cut the scientist off. It was bad enough he was having to get this black soot off Wheeljack; he really didn't want to have to listen to Perceptor's rather long and boring explanation of why it happened!

Wheeljack looked from Mech to Mech. _"Yep, basically ethanol-blends suck in a gasoline-only engine."_

"_Yes, that would be an accurate description;" _Perceptor nodded and left.

"_So you blew up another lab, did ya!?" _Ratchet's rather disgust-filled voice filled the room.

Wheeljack groaned as Sunstreaker snickered. _This it'd be a good one! _The yellow Mech thought gleefully.

"_Hey, it wasn't my fault this time!" _Wheeljack tried to explain.

"_I've heard THAT one before!" _Ratchet grumbled, not believing the inventor in the least.

Sunstreaker ducked the flying wretch, but Wheeljack wasn't so lucky. It smacked him right between his optics. The yellow Mech ran out of the room as Ratchet went into his standard tirade about stupidity and accidents. Poor Wheeljack having no protection against the flying tools of his bond mate.

--

_**Note: **The one involving Brawn is now complete and in the 'tweeking' stage. Blaster's is still stuck in my head and I've got an idea for Cliffjumper.. sigh.. flipping coins to decide on which one to concentrate on next!_

_--_

Please review…


	10. Member of the Band

MC Master

**Member of the Band**

Blaster grinned in pure happiness as he and Jazz showed their passes at the amphitheatre gates. _"Dude, getting this gig sure is cool!" _he said to the black helmed Mech.

Jazz had the same rust-eatin' grin on his face. _"Ya man, I hear what you're sayin'!"_

The two Autobots still couldn't quite believe that they'd been approached by Metallic Symphony's management about working the concert here in Vegas. For two musical enthusiasts like themselves, it truly was a dream gig!

"_Hey, you must be, ah.." T_he man wearing a black shirt with the word 'crew chief' across the back, looked down at the tablet he was holding. _"There it is! Blaster and Jazz – right?"_

"_Sure am man, so when're we gonna jam?" _Jazz said with his normal light heartedness.

Looking up at the two, the crew chief motioned toward some crews that were setting up the frame work for the lights. _"If Blaster would go help them with those lights, it'll get done faster. One of our booms broke down."_

"_Sure thing! 'Ol Blaster can do the heavy lifting!" _the red Mech grinned as he trotted off.

The crew chief nodded at Jazz. _"And you; just follow me."_

Jazz shrugged, and followed him. Not having a clue as to what his job would be.

--

Approaching one of the many identical tour buses, the crew chief rapped on the door.

"_Yo, who's bugging us?" _A voice asked as the door opened a slit.

"_Just me. I've got your local ride with me." _

Some muffled conversation was heard in the bus. _"So what'd you get us this time, a moped?" _another voice joked.

Obviously used to the joking, the crew chief laughed. _"No, you'd guys just get drunk and wreck. So we got you something you can't wreck this time!"_

He winked at Jazz, who was now beginning to get a clue as to what his job would be.

More snickering and conversation was heard from the bus's interior. _"So what the hell'd you get us? Couple of ugly broads in a Yugo?" _a third voice yelled.

"_Nope, why don't you drunk asses come out and see your ride?" _the crew chief yelled back.

"_Shit! It's too damned early for that!" _the first voice replied.

More snickering and joking; then the third voice said, _"Fuck, I'll come out. If one of us doesn't, Joe's likely to give it to our openers."_

Chris stumbled out of the bus, his curly hair obviously not brushed yet. Blinking in the bright light of the sun, the guitarist looked up at Jazz. His mouth fell open in shock and amazement! _"Are you serious Joe?!" _

"_Yep."_

Chris went back into the bus, more snickering and joking could be heard; along with several 'No fucking way!' comments. All four band members then stumbled out of the bus, staring up at Jazz in disbelief.

"_This is Jazz. He's gonna be your ride today. Like I said, now you drunks can party as hard as you want to!" _with a nod to Jazz, Joe the crew chief walked off.

Kneeling down, Jazz held out his hand and introduced himself. Very pleased that he would get to drive around one of the bands that he liked to jam to.

Jostling each other, the band members debated on who got to go somewhere first. Then they ran in the bus, to see which one could get his teeth and hair brushed, and dressed – first.

Soon, Chris and Mark were back on the pavement again.

"_So what do you transform into?" _Chris asked.

Jazz transformed to alt mode.

Mark whistled, impressed! _"935 Porsche, sweet!"_

Before the other two band members came out, the two crammed themselves into Jazz's front seats.

Setting his hands on the steering wheel, Mark hesitated. _"So do I drive, or you?" _he asked.

Jazz chuckled, _"You drive when you're sober; I'll drive when you're drunk – cool deal?"_

"_Yep, cool deal!" _

Flooring it, Mark spun them in a circle. Turning the steering wheel sharply, black smoke flowed behind them as he burnt rubber out of the parking lot.

**Next Morning, at the Ark**

"_What the hell were you thinking?!" _Ratchet grumbled, as he went to the storage room and fished around for a set of new tires.

Jazz just grinned as he sat on the table. _"Hey, it was so cool to hang out with those guys. Man, I'm telling ya!"_

The medic snorted in disgust. _"Weren't YOU supposed to be the one driving?"_

"_Only when they got drunk."_

"_That explains why you smell like whiskey. So why do you also smell like pot?" _Ratchet grumbled as he used an air wrench to loosen Jazz's lug nuts.

"_Well, Joe didn't say anything about smoken'," _Jazz shrugged.

The medic considered hitting him in the head to knock some sense into him, but he wasn't done fixing him yet.

"_Hey, you know what the best thing about it was?"_

Ratchet just shook his head.

Jazz grinned, _"Man, those guys wrote a song on MY dashboard. Yep, MY dashboard!"_

Ok, now the medic couldn't stop himself! He smacked the dumb-aft upside the head as hard as he could!

--

_**Note: **__This one started as a story about Blaster, but got a mind of its own.. oops.._

_--_

Please review…


	11. Excessive Dancing

**Excessive Dancing**

As Jazz disappeared with the crew chief, Blaster helped the lighting crews. Time passed quickly as he ran from team-to-team, lifting and holding the metal framework while they secured it together.

Several hours later, they were done. Blaster sat down with the main set-up crew as they took their break and watched the techs do a test run on the lights and lasers.

"Now, dude, THAT is cool!" Blaster commented, as a rather intricate pattern of lasers and lights flickered across his field of vision.

Several of them agreed with him.

"Why don't you stay for the show?" Darren asked him.

Taking it as an invite, Blaster nodded his head.

--

As the music flowed over the crowd, Blaster couldn't help but move with it. At first, he tried to keep his feet still and just bob his head like the humans were doing. But that didn't last long, as his natural inclination was to move his whole chassis.

Standing behind the sound and light booths in the 'pit' behind the ground-level seating area, Blaster wasn't bothering anyone with his enjoyment. Every now-and-then one of the sound engineers would glance back and ask him if he thought the levels were just right. As he responded with advice, they'd nod, smile, and go back to the mixing board.

_Yes, this was indeed the coolest gig around!_ Blaster thought to himself as he gyrated to the beat.

Getting more into the music, Blaster began to move around more and more.

Unnoticed by either the mech, or the human techs; some cables became wrapped around Blaster's foot. As he continued to move and dance, they encircled his other foot. Before he realized what was going on, he was completely entangled!

Tripping, he grabbed the rail in front of the next level of bleacher seats. As he fell, the rail couldn't support his weight and it ripped from the walk way with a terrible sound.

In terror, music fans ran away from the tumbling mech. He hit the ground in a heap, his feet still hogtied together by the cables. Bringing his feet up to his chest, he began to unwrap the tight cables with his hands, jerking on them to get enough slack.

So engrossed was he in detangling himself, he didn't notice that his efforts to get slack were causing problems at the other ends of them.

The main power cables for the sound system, disconnected from the main board. Which caused the sound system to go completely dead; as the techs ran around to try and find the problem, the light system went out as its main cable was jerked from its board.

Suddenly, the sound and lights of the concert went off. The crowd roared in dismay, which quickly became anger.

Blaster looked up in confusion as he finally got himself untangled. That's when he noticed the sound and light crews all glaring at him. Looking around, he noticed the eyes of eighty thousand ticked off music fans were also glaring at him!

A tap on his leg caught his attention. Looking down he noticed four big security guards looking up at him. Motioning for him to follow them, they left the lower level as the engineers plugged everything back in.

Blaster looked in dismay as the front gates were shut behind him. He'd been officially 'kicked off' the amphitheatre's grounds by security and not a one of them would listen to him that it'd been an accident!

Not seeing Jazz anywhere, a dejected Blaster began the long walk back to the Ark.

--

Please review..


	12. On the Range

On the Range

**On the Range**

"Hey Hound, you tough enough to join us?" Brawn challenged; the gleam of anticipation in his brilliant optics.

Hound just shrugged. He'd just gotten off shift from his second job, but wasn't on the schedule at the Ark this shift. So, if it was fun – why not? "What are you mechs' up to?" he asked.

Trailbreaker grinned as he downed some more energon. "BLM had some positions open on this season's round-up. Gonna be some good off-roadin' action!" He revved his engines in emphasis.

Glancing Red Alert's way, Brawn chuckled; "But you gotta be tough to really be a Cowboy out on the range! Not like that city slicker stuff at Rodeos!"

Anger gleamed in the Security Officer's optics, since it was obvious just who Brawn was dissing by that comment. "You go and get your intakes clogged, I'll keep my optics peeled for Decepticons!" with that, he stormed off.

The three of them couldn't help but chuckle, for they weren't about to let Red Alert ever live that rodeo down! The vision of him covered in dust and hoof prints; would forever be etched in their memory banks. Granted, the fact that Sideswipe had taken a digital and snuck it on Teletraan 1 as a 'screen saver' – had also greatly added to the red mech's embarrassment.

"So you in?" Brawn asked, raising an optic ridge to Hound.

Hound nodded, it did sound like fun! "Sure, so what'll we be doing?"

"Oh, we'll be following behind the Cowboys, bringing up the stragglers," Trailbreaker explained.

Brawn took his last swig of energon. "Yep, they bring in the choppers to locate the Mustangs, then the Cowboys on horses, four wheelers and 4X4's – bring them on in."

This was really sounding like some fun! Roads could be so – boring! "So when are we heading out?" the Scout asked.

Brawn transformed, "Right now. Let's roll out boys!"

**Round 'em Up**

"We-hew! Man this is the life!" Josh yelled. Hanging onto Trailbreaker's frame, the wrangler kept himself from flying out of the mech as they careened after the Mustang herd.

Trailbreaker had to agree, this was indeed much more exciting than showing tourists the Grand Canyon! "Hold on!" he yelled as they topped another rise and plummeted down the other side. His struts squealed in protest.

"I can't believe the speed those horses are maintaining!" Hound yelled over the sound of galloping hooves. He felt like he was barely able to keep up, but the sheer challenge of it was making his fluids boil in excitement!

Brawn shot up the rise beside him, shocks squeaking in protest as he landed heavily on the other side. "Yep, for flesh creatures – they're pretty tough!"

"The herd's splitting! Swing to the right, we'll head 'em off!" Josh yelled, holding on as Trailbreaker almost flipped by turning too fast.

"We'll back ya up!" Brawn yelled, as both he and Hound turned and followed Trailbreaker and the wrangler.

Swinging fast around the group of Mustangs that were making a break for it, Hound had an idea. "Hey, what if I made them think they were blocked? Would they turn?"

"Sure, but how'r ya gonna do that?" Josh asked.

Trailbreaker chuckled, "He's the master of illusions!"

Not far in front of the escaping group, a mountain seemed to appear out of nowhere. Its sheer cliff faces, unclimbable. Predictably, the herd changed direction – unfortunately, they decided to head straight towards the three Autobots in a full, panicked gallop!

"Slag it! They're not going to wreck us like Red Alert are they?" Trailbreaker yelled in dismay. Mental images of the three of them with shattered windows and hoof printed hoods – briefly flew through his meta.

"Nah, these are totally wild. They're going to go for the easiest way out." Josh seemed to be relatively unconcerned. "You two transform, wave your arms and hoot an holler!"

Brawn and Hound transformed, and did just what the wrangler told them to do. Between the apparent mountainside, and the terrifying loud mechs – the Mustangs again turned. This time they headed straight back toward the main group.

Transforming back to alt mode, Brawn huffed with pride at their work; "Can't see why Red Alert couldn't move these animals. This is a breeze!" he bragged.

Rejoining the rest of the wranglers, the Autobots again followed the herd. Soon, another group tried to break free of the round-up. This time, they consisted of mares and foals.

Again, the Autobot team went after them. Following the directions of wrangler Josh; unfortunately, this group of runaways decided to jump into a deep wash. They turned right, and galloped along it as fast as their hooves could carry them.

"No problem!" Trailbreaker yelled. His tires went airborne as he just drove over the side of the deep wash. Shocks strained as he landed heavily in the bottom. "I'll block them here, just bring 'em back this way!" He slid to a stop and transformed, ready to act like an insane mech when the others turned the runaways back towards him.

Brawn and Hound took off after the runaways. Driving along the top of the deep gully, they coordinated their 'diversion' tactics. Taking his cue, Hound jumped the entire gully and ended up bouncing heavily on the other side. Continuing on, the two Autobots passed the runaways. Driving a bit further, Brawn transformed and jumped into the gully.

"I'll block them here, you keep them from going up that side!" he yelled to them.

Sure enough, as the herd came galloping round the turn and saw the terrifying specter of a shouting, waving mech – they slid to a stop. Wheeling around, they bolted the opposite direction, with Brawn following them in alt mode again.

The six mares and five foals, headed straight for Trailbreaker. Although he was yelling and waving his arms, he also put up a force field – just in case. The mares slid to a terrified stop, running into each other in their panic.

Three fell, as the others leaped up the one clear bank – and took off. One mare struggled up, rearing in terror, desperate to get back with the group. She leaped over the transforming Brawn and took off back up the gully. Without asking Josh, Brawn turned, transformed and went after her.

He followed the mare until she suddenly fell. Transforming, he studied the situation. There was a deep, narrow washout in the middle of the big gully. It was about five feet deep and three feet wide. The mare had stumbled, and fallen into the washout. She was now stuck, upside down, with her hooves flailing.

Hound came up to him; they were without human advice, since Trailbreaker and Josh were busy herding the others back towards the main group.

"Hmmm, don't think that's a good position for that Mustang," Hound mumbled as he circled the trapped horse and considered the predicament.

Brawn set one of his feet down in the washout, keeping a decent distance from the flailing legs, but trying to decide if he could get a hand under her. "If you can grab her legs and keep her from kicking me, I can lift her out."

"Sounds good, hold on" Hound got on his knees. Edging close to the stuck horse from the side, he clumsily caught all of her legs. "Ok, I think I've got them. We've just got to be careful, these legs are skinny things!"

Nodding, Brawn set his other foot down in front of him and leaned forward. Carefully, he slid a hand under the horse's body. "Ready?"

"Yep."

"Here goes," he began to lift the horse up. His linkages and hydraulics strained against the load. She was a lot heavier than he had thought!

Kneeling down as best he could in the tight spot, he got his other hand under her. It was a very awkward position, and hard to get any leverage, but the two Autobots slowly worked the horse out of the washout.

As soon as her side hit the ground, the horse struggled in Hound's grasp. Letting her go, he offered his hand to Brawn.

Taking the offered hand, Brawn tried to get out of the wash. He couldn't, for both his legs were thoroughly wedged. Hound pulled with all of his might, to no avail. Brawn was one hundred percent – STUCK!

"Well, this isn't good. You're stuck," his friend said. Then Hound scratched his head as he considered how they could possibly get Brawn out of this mess.

Sighing in disgust, Brawn nodded for Hound to go on and rejoin the roundup. "Go on, I'll radio Hoist for a pull."

Not really wanting to leave his friend, but realizing he wasn't actually in danger of anything more than embarrassment, Hound nodded. "I guess, just stay put and we'll come back and get ya."

Watching the retreating form of Hound, Brawn sighed with disgust as he radioed the Ark to ask for assistance. Of course it had to be Red Alert that was on-shift right now! The darned Security officer was going to have a field day with this one!

--

**_Note: _**_Might be a couple of weeks before I update this one again.. Kind've run out of 'Murphy's law' ideas - temporarily.. But the second I come up with some more brainstorms.. I'll start working on this story again.._

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Please review..


	13. After the Rains

I was inspired for this one-shot from a real life story. The original that I adapted this from, can be found at: www. glenmay. com

**After the Rains**

It had poured and poured that Feb. 13th, which was rather rare in Vegas. The storm system seemed to have gotten stalled due to a high pressure system that was in control of the Midwest. Despite the nasty weather 'ol Ironhide still had to get those flower arrangements delivered! So with his human partner, Jake, riding along to run the arrangements and roses up to the doors, they trucked on through the storms. Both of them prayed that they'd get a short break at every stop.

Going down several new roads which didn't have signs up yet, Ironhide grumbled as he tried but failed to use GPS to find the darned house. "Well sloggers, why are we delivering to a place that don't exist yet?" he grumbled.

Jake shrugged, reading the hand-written directions even slower, for the fifth time. "It says to turn here, and then go to the third right, and then it's the last house."

Ironhide grumbled some more. The heavy rains had coated these roads in a layer of mud from the cleared lots, making driving even more unenjoyable. Getting to the third right, he kicked up even more mud onto his sides as he turned. "You'd think they could at least put some darned street signs up," he continued to grumble. Heck, he hated this job because it was so emasculating, and it didn't help that Sideswipe was trying to catch a picture of him with these magnetic flower signs on his sides. After what the mech had done to humiliate Red Alert – Ironhide was determined to avoid the same thing.

The road turned into a hill, and the two spotted the sole house at the end. A feeling of relief flooded through the red mech as he peeled his tires, trying to get some kind of grip on the slick roadway. A woman was sitting on the covered front porch. Seeing the flower delivery van, she shouted at them "IT'S GOIN UP DAT DARE HILL, THIRD TRAILER ON THE RIGHT!" while she pointed behind her house towards some doublewide trailers that were at the very end of the road.

Up the hill they continued to drive, wheels spinning and slipping as the pavement turned into packed mud... until they sank. They sank into the mud up to Ironhide's doors. Ironhide began to really grumble now, for he couldn't transform unless Jake unloaded all of the arrangements. This was turning out to be way beyond just a bad day.

Getting out, Jake continued the trek to the third doublewide on foot to inform the customers that his 'van' sank into their drive and was now stuck.

Fortunately the costumers; Ritta and Chris, were still sober enough to understand they weren't getting their "arrangement" at the moment. The smell of vodka and pot, which emanated from the interior of the trailer, was so strong that Jake thought he'd get high just standing at their door. Glancing warily at the pair, he gulped in trepidation, for they were the most redneck, shoot-you-on-sight, type of people he'd ever had the unfortunate chance in meeting. It was around 11:30 am, and Chris was already completely covered in motor oil, wearing overalls with a single strap holding his pants up. The chic was barely concealed by a ripped up tank top. Between the two of them, they had fewer teeth than they had toes.

"Oh hell, no problem, we'll pull ya out!" Chris offered, as he took another puff from his joint. He didn't seem to even consider whether the delivery man was for or against pot smoking. Or even care for that matter.

_Awesome_.. Jake thought to himself as he wallowed through the thick mud back to Ironhide. Getting in out of the rain, he patted the mech's steering wheel. "Hey man, they've got some kind of tow truck or something that can pull us out of this mud pit!" he told the mech.

Ironhide sighed in disgust. Here he was a MECH, having to be pulled out by humans. Sloggers, he sure hoped that Sideswipe wasn't hiding out somewhere close with his damned digital camera ready. He'd have to kick that mech's aft all over the station if that was the case. Because there was no way in HELL that he was going to be used as a screensaver!

Well, Jake was wrong. The pair of rednecks did not have a tow truck at all. His eyes opened wide in shock as his stomach began to get a nauseated feel to it. _Oh God, Ironhide's really going to be bitching after this one! _He thought to himself.

The rednecks came wheelin' around the side of the hill, sliding and fishtailing in a minivan! They barely maintained any kind of control as the drunk and stoned pair almost hit Ironhide as they slid to a stop. The back hatch was open with one of the half naked Ritta inside, and they back up to the front of Ironhide.

"You've got to be kidding! Why I never –" Ironhide began to rant, as the rednecks piled out of the other minivan.

Jake hit his steering wheel. "Shut up man! Do YOU want to call your boys for a pull?" He'd been listening to the grumbling mech for two days, and he knew that the 'tough guy' simply hated this job because of its feminizing connotations. The last thing Ironhide would want; is for his buddies to see him like this. Especially some guy named Sideswipe.

Ironhide shut up, knowing that Jake was right. But he was determined to find another job after this darned human holiday. Maybe a job transporting dynamite or something, at least that would be more 'masculine'!

Chris pulls out a set of jumper cables. Clamping one side down to the bumper of Ironhide, he then gripped the other end of the cables.

Even, if magically, the jumper cables were strong enough to stay clamped to the bumper, there's no way in hell that Chris would be able to pull the Ironhide out of this mud. Jake didn't know what to do, for he really felt that these rednecks were about to kill themselves...

Chris counted down 3 ... 2... 1... and VROOOOOOOOOOM. Ritta floors the minivan, spinning mud all over Ironhide, and then went careening out of control down the side of the hill. The jumper cables just popped off the bumper! Who would have imagined!

She drove back up the hill towards Ironhide and Jake, and informed them that there were some shovels in the shed that Jake could use to try and dig the red van out. They pointed to a run down shed behind their doublewide. Parking the minivan again, Ritta collected her flower arrangement and went back inside with Chris in tow.

Grumbling in disgust, Ironhide radioed in to base to get Hoist to come out and give him a pull. He knew that the damned prankster was most likely listening in, and would bet money on the fact that there'd be a screensaver of him in this predicament on Teletraan 1 – before he even made it back!

--

Please review..


	14. MisAim

Mis-Aimed

**Mis-Aimed**

"Hey Powerglide, thanks for the lift!" Sideswipe said. Feeling the plane's wheels hitting the tarmac, he braced himself against the flyer's interior fuselage. The vibrations became intensified, and he felt the pull forward as Powerglide engaged his brakes.

Rolling to a stop, Powerglide opened his side door. "Ya know you've been riding in style – when 'ol Powerglide gives ya a lift!"

"Ya, ya.. Keep bragging. But you're freagin' fast takeoffs and landings caused me to ding my paintjob!" Sunstreaker griped. Jumping out after his brother, his griping increased in volume as he stumbled and went down on a knee.

"Ah, don't listen to him, he's just mad that we're guarding better looking cars than him," Sideswipe snickered. He patted Powerglide's wing and moved away as the plane took off.

"And AAAWWWAAAYYYYY WWWWEEEE GO!!" Powerglide hollered as he zoomed down the runway.

"Prick," Sunstreaker huffed. He glared after the obnoxious plane. "Slagger thinks he's better than the rest of us combined!"

Sideswipe slapped him on his back as he casually strolled by. "Yep, just like a yellow Lamborghini I know.."

"Why you!" Sunstreaker started after him, debating on if he should kick his aft before or after this little 'job' of theirs.

"Just remember, you piss him off – you get to drive all the way back to the ark, by yourself!" the red Lamborghini grinned at his twin. His optics silently dared Sunstreaker to even try to kick his aft.

"Good, you two are here!" the dealership's manager said in between gulps of air. He had been frantic, since the fire marshals had ordered the mandatory evacuation hours ago. There was no way to transport all of their new cars out of possible harm's way, and even though the fire should go around the Dealership because it was basically solid concrete – all humans had to evacuate. So he had hired these two mechs to stand guard until the human guards were allowed to return.

"No problem got here as fast as we could. Our buddy's been hired by forestry to try and stomp out this wildfire, so we could catch a lift." Sideswipe grinned at his yellow twin as he explained to the manager.

"Great! I'm just glad you two are here! Don't let anyone besides myself, cops or firefighters onto the premises. There's a lot of problem with looters after these blazes," the manager explained. "The smoke's not going to bother you guys is it?"

"Naw, we can just increase our filtration systems. Ain't no big deal," Sideswipe assured him. He put a hand over Sunstreaker's mouth before the mech could spout off what the soot would do to his paintjob. Smiling at the manager, he nodded reassuringly.

"Ok, I'll be back as soon as they clear us too. And thanks a lot for coming so quickly!" The manager nodded at them and then ran over to his Escalade. Pealing tires, he zoomed out of the dealership's lot.

--

Sunstreaker hit the top of Sideswipe's helm. "Don't you freagin' put your hand over MY mouth again! You scuffed my chest armor you dolt!" He stomped off to the other side of the car lot, pulling his wax and buffing rag out as he did so. That damned brother of his could make him so mad! Heck, it wasn't his idea to accept this job in the first place. The last thing he wanted to be around was a wild fire, with embers falling onto his beautiful paint job…….

The red mech just snickered as Sunstreaker stomped off. Heck, this would be easy money wouldn't it? Just wander around and look at high-end cars and stuff, and make sure no vandals or thieves stole any while the salespeople were on a forced evacuation. It wasn't like the fire would do any more than burn everything around the pavement. So they'd be safe.

Wandering around, Sideswipe was very pleased that the salespeople had already moved all of the cars and trucks away from the peripheral of the dealership. Now, there was at least two hundred feet between the cars and anything flammable. So there was really nothing to worry about.

The thin smoke that was in the air, seemed to get thicker. Sideswipe sniffed the wind as he turned and looked towards the source. He whistled as he saw that the entire ridge above the town they were in was engulfed in flames. All the scrub trees and grass, going up like a powder keg. Planes and choppers flew over the blaze, trying to stop its advancement by dumping hundreds of tons of flame retardant in front of it.

Shading his optics with his hand, Sideswipe squinted into the bright sunlight. Yep, he could just make out Powerglide's darting form. Chuckling, he knew the flyer was having the time of his life, being someone heroic.

"Ah well, guess I might as well sit down and catch some rays before that fire gets close and blocks them," Sideswipe mumbled to himself. Sitting down next to a row of Corvettes, he enjoyed watching the spectacle of the fire fight.

"Akk," Sunstreaker grumbled as he buffed out the scuffs that Sideswipe's rough handling had caused. The air was beginning to get thick with smoke from the advancing blaze, which only made the mech even more miserable. "Its going to take freagin' weeks to get that smell out of my leather seats," he griped. If it hadn't been for Prime telling him it would be an 'easy job, so go on' – he'd have made Sideswipe con some other mech into joining him. But unfortunately it had been just the three of them standing there, when the call came in. Sunstreaker had been stuck.

Looking over at the approaching blaze, the yellow mech grimaced. There was so much soot being kicked up, he'd be lucky to have even a hint of yellow on his paint afterward! Glancing at all of the Corvettes parked around him, he wondered if he could just talk the dealership's detail crew to do him when they cleaned up all of these cars as well? He thought about it. Yep, the humans would owe him one for this, so it'd be the least they could do..

Getting tired of watching the approaching fire, plus the fact that the air was getting very, very thick with soot and smoke, Sideswipe stood up. He figured he should go and find out where Sunstreaker was, and then they could put the flame retardant tarp over themselves until the fire went by. He noticed Sunstreaker walking towards him, most likely with the same thought.

Faintly, he heard the sound of Powerglide's engines over the dealership. He didn't think much of it until the world went orange.

--

"This is Powerglide.. I'm gonna take care of the East front.. You boys stay outta my way – let the pro handle it!" Powerglide radioed to the fire command post. Not waiting for clearance, he flew towards the town, the smoke from the fire obscuring his view of the ground.

His charts told him he was in the right place; between the dealership and the blaze's front. So he dumped his load of fire suppressant.. Not realizing that his calculations were off by a quarter mile….

--

"What in Vector Sigma?!" Sunstreaker yelled. Blinded by the sudden orange coating over his optics, he flailed around in shock. Then he stumbled and fell onto a row of Corvettes. Not knowing what was going on, he thrashed around for a second.

"Sloggers Sunstreaker! Where the heck are you?!" Sideswipe yelled. Stumbling along, he felt his way up the row of Corvettes to the sound of his brother's cursing. He tried desperately to get the orange stuff off his optics.

About the time he reached Sunstreaker, they had both gotten their optics cleaned off enough to see. That's when Sunstreaker made the mistake of looking down. His beautiful yellow chassis was now covered in orange flame retardant. "I am going to so kick Powerglide's aft for this!!" he growled.

"Well, look at the bright side Sunstreaker. We don't have to get under that tarp now…." Sideswipe said with a grin. He only wished that he had planned this one…

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Please review…


	15. Cargo Transport

Cargo Transport

**Cargo Transport**

"You're serious! A boring cargo route?!' Air Raid exclaimed in an incredulous tone. He couldn't believe that any Aerialbot would lower himself to that level.. No matter how desperate they were for a job.

"Sounds pretty freagin' boring to me. A waste of time," Slingshot agreed. He didn't have a high opinion of humans to begin with, and now being forced to beg for a job from them – was insulting to the flyer to say the least. The Decepticons didn't do this – why the heck should they?!

Silverbolt shrugged. He was actually quite happy with the job offer from Fed-Ex. Perhaps he could do it at lower altitudes as well? Surely his human boss wouldn't care as long as the cargo arrived their on time – right? He knew he'd face some ridicule from his fellow Aerialbots, but he was already used to their jokes about his acrophobia. "Hey, a job is a job. I don't see YOU working Slingshot," he replied as he gave the other mech an appraising glance.

Slingshot snorted, he didn't care what the others thought. "I'll just steal energon from the Decepticons while you fools slave away for your human bosses," he insulted.

Skydive studied the brash mech, he knew that Slingshot wasn't all talk by any means. "If you get caught, don't expect us to come and rescue your tail fins this time. We'll be busy," he said flatly. Everyone knew what would happen to an Autobot if the cons got hold of their aft. But perhaps an experience like that would calm down the brash Slingshot? Make him realize that he wasn't invincible..

Sticking his olfactory sensor up in the air, Slingshot looked down at his fellow Aerialbots. They were too freagin' cautious! Just like the rest of the Autobots. Why couldn't they just take what they needed from the humans?! Heck, they were protecting them from the cons weren't they?! They owed them! But freagin' Optimus was too afraid to be that bold. To demand the Autobots' just payment for their work… He'd had the audacity to order all of them to get jobs… To beg for funds from the humans! Well, Slingshot wasn't about to lower himself to THAT level… "You mechs have fun 'working' – I'll supply the energon all by myself!" he snorted. Before anyone could reply, he turned and strode out of the room.

"Prick," Air Raid stated. He'd hated having to get a second job just like everyone else, but an order was an order.

"Think one of us should stop him?" Fireflight asked. He was sure that the impulsive Aerialbot would get caught by the cons, and he didn't want to see that happen to any mech! Even one that deserve a little 'reality check'.

Silverbolt sighed in resignation, "I'll talk with him when I get back on shift. Maybe I can talk some sense into him before he really screws up."

Air Raid chuckled, "Good luck!"

"You'll need it," Skydive agreed.

"Maybe you should just tie him down?" Fireflight offered, his optics gleaming with the very idea.

The Aerialbot leader sighed. Why did Optimus have to make HIM leader?! It was a pain in the afterburner! But he couldn't think about it now, he was going to be late for work. "Well, I handle him when I get back, see ya," he said.

--

"Our flight plan states that we need to cruise at thirty thousand," the pilot stated flatly.

Silverbolt tried not to shudder in anxiety. He hated heights with a passion, but now his job was going to force him to fly at high altitudes. Visions of coming crashing down to the ground filled his meta with dread. And now that he was becoming heavier-and-heavier as the human cargo handlers continued to load his belly full – he'd hit the ground even harder! "You sure? Why can't we cruise at five thousand?" he asked.

The pilot sighed in exacerbation. He'd never imagined having an argument about flight altitude with the jet itself! Especially when that jet was a concord! This was going to make a hell of a story over a beer one day. "Because… That's what the FAA orders us to fly at. I don't want to discuss it again," he stated.

A sinking feeling ran through the mech. Sloggers, he was stuck flying high… He wished he could up and quite right now! But then he'd be a laughing stock amongst all of the Autobots.. He'd never live it down..

--

They'd been flying for several hours now. The pitch black of night doing little to stymie Silverbolt's fear… He knew that they were flying over the open ocean right now, then they'd cross over the Midway Island chain on their route. At least if and when he crashed, it'd be into water.. A little softer than land…

"Well, I'm up for a nap. Since you're the official co-pilot, just keep us on our flight path," the pilot ordered. He still found it disconcerting to be talking to the jet itself, but this jet was alive. So it wasn't like he was a nut case or anything.

"Yes sir," Silverbolt simply said. It was hard to make conversation with this pilot. He was somewhat of a hardheaded stickler for protocol. In some ways, Silverbolt was beginning to understand Slingshot's view on things… Maybe stealing Decepticon energon would be easier than flying at high altitude?

The pilot went to the cot and laid down. Soon, he was snoring away, leaving Silverbolt to face his fear of heights all alone.

For a while Silverbolt stayed at thirty thousand. But soon he drifted down to twenty five thousand. _Heck, no one will know.._ He reasoned to himself. And that was five thousand LESS feet to plummet down wasn't it? So it was safer… But soon, Silverbolt began to muse again. _Well, twenty thousand feet wasn't THAT much lower was it? _He thought to himself. So again, he drifted downward another five thousand feet. He felt a tad safer..

He flew for thirty minutes at twenty thousand. Then his meta started to muse again. He was over water wasn't he? So why would another five thousand be a problem. Surely it wouldn't! So again, he drifted down another five thousand feet. He could almost see the waves now.. He felt even better..

After a while, he again debated with himself about lowering his altitude again. No one had been hurt – right? He was still going to get to his destination – right? So again-and-again, he continued to drift downward. Eventually, he was almost skimming the waves.

An island came up on radar. One of the islands of the Mid-way chain he would cross. In the darkness he saw few lights. So why should he lift his altitude? He wouldn't be bothering anyone by skimming over the island. So staying low, he approached the island and watched as the terrain began to pass underneath his wings…

Suddenly his forward momentum stopped completely! He felt straps going over his nose and wings! Then he was being propelled backwards like a slingshot! The pilot woke up and tumbled across the cabin, yelling in terror… Then Silverbolt felt sand under his belly as he hit the ground and skidded across the beach.. He groaned when he finally stopped, the sand having stripped some of his fuselage of it's protective coating.

In shock, the pilot struggled to his feet. Climbing out of the cockpit, he looked around the groaning concord, trying to figure out WHY they had crashed. In the distance, he saw some towering electric line polls. Two of the metal structures were now bent slightly. Some of their power lines sagging to the ground, as if they'd been stretched. Recalling back to their conversation before they'd even taken off from the mainland, he began to put two-and-two together.

"You son-of-a-bitch! You fucking lowered our altitude!" he accused as he turned towards the concord.

Silverbolt said nothing, the pilot was right… He'd so screwed up! Optimus and the Aerialbots were never – NEVER – going to let him live this one down….

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Please review…


	16. Class from Hell

Class from Hell

**Class from Hell**

Beachcomber looked around the old gymnasium, trying to envision it filled with human children. The air filled with their eager curiosity as they would ask questions in a continuous stream at him. He smiled, for this teaching job that Spike's old friend had helped him get, was perfect!

Footsteps filled his audios. Looking expectantly towards the door that his sensors indicated the sound was coming from; he prepared himself for his early students to arrive. A warm smile covered his face as the shape of a small, human female was silhouetted against the semi-transparent glass of the door. It opened with agonizing slowness, the eager mech having to hold back his excitement. Even before the student had started in, "How are you this morning?" he asked.

"Oh, pretty good, and yourself?" An older female voice replied.

A surprised expression passed over the mech's face. It wasn't a student who had entered his 'classroom'; it was one of the tenured faculty members. Quickly, he scanned through his memory files, matching the diminutive middle-aged woman to the personnel files he had from the school. Her file popped into his active memory. Her name was 'Mrs Sims' and she was senior faculty, and taught the AP Chemistry class upstairs. "Mrs. Sims, I didn't expect you," he stammered a bit.

Unfazed, the small woman strolled into the old gymnasium, her white lab coat swaying slightly with her steps. She stopped and peered up at him, sliding her finger on the top of her nose in order to reposition her glasses better. "You must be Mr. Beachcomber," she stated more than asked.

"Yes ma-am," he replied with a smile. He decided to sit down, since humans seemed more comfortable when a mech didn't tower so far over them. Granted, this tiny woman didn't seem the least bit intimidated.

"Mr. Samson informed me that this is your first day teaching," she said with a warm smile.

"Yes ma-am it is," the mech replied.

She cocked her head, giving him a curious look. "So you've never even sub'd?" she asked.

"No ma-am," he replied, "Perhaps you could give me some pointers?"

She chuckled. The warm, welcoming tone echoed throughout the gymnasium. Without any hesitation, she walked up to him and patted him on his leg armor like he was an old friend. "The students are going to try and eat you alive," she chuckled.

His optic ridges scrunched together in confusion. He'd never heard of humans eating mechs before. He didn't think metal was in their diet. So were they truly going to 'eat him'? "Um, I don't understand. I didn't think humans consumed machinery," he replied.

This caused the teacher to really burst out in laughter. But then she stopped herself and studied him intently. "You really have no idea what you've gotten yourself into, do you?" she asked, concern in her voice.

He shrugged, "I was told I'd just be educating kids on Earth geology. You know, talking about it."

She clucked her tongue, shaking her head from side-to-side. "It's not that simple Mr. Beachcomber. You've got to have classroom management down, before you can even start teaching," she told him. Her expression was one of concern.

"What's classroom management?" he asked. He'd never heard of this term.

She sighed, obviously feeling sorry for him. "It's making the students behave," she explained.

"Oh, don't you just ask them too – and they do?" Beachcomber asked. Isn't that what Sparkplug did to Spike?

The first bell rang and students started to file in. Mrs. Sims patted his leg in an almost sympathetic fashion. "We'll talk about it during planning period, ok? But if you need assistance, just dial 222. Since Vice Principle Tasks isn't here, I'm acting in her stead. So I've got one of the permanent subs in my classes today," she told him.

He thanked the woman and watched her leave. Then he turned his attention to the students who were filling up the bleachers. The gymnasium got loud with their conversations as many of them were looking up at him, then down at sheets of paper, then back up at him. Then they'd talk to each other for a bit, comparing their sheets of paper.

"Um, like, who are you?" One asked him.

"Are you a sub?!" Another asked in an excited tone.

That one got hit on the head by another guy, "No he's the teacher, stupid! Didn't you read the notice yesterday?!"

"Aw, fuck you Chris, who reads those things?" the blond boy who just got hit demanded to know.

"Gay asswipes like him do!" a dark-skinned boy joked as he lightheartedly pushed the boy who'd initially hit the one guy.

"Wow, can you really turn into a car?!" a young dark-skinned girl with long braids in her hair asked Beachcomber.

Before he could even reply, the boy called Chris answered for him. "Sure he can, that's what they do. Why else would they be called 'Transformers'? Duh!"

She proceeded to chase that boy around Beachcomber with her folder, hitting him whenever she got close enough. Then two other girls grabbed the boy and held him still while she pegged him with the folder.

"You are so gay Chris!" one of the other boys teased. The rest of them snickering as they watched him getting assaulted by the girls with folders.

Beachcomber tried desperately to get a word in edgewise, but he was completely ignored by the students. He cleared his throat a few times, since he'd seen Sparkplug do that and get Spike's attention. But it didn't work with these kids. The noise of their talking and joking got louder and louder, he felt like his audios were going to be overwhelmed as he tried to follow ten different conversations at once. "Please be quiet!" he yelled, and was totally ignored.

Then he felt something hit his back. Swiveling at his waist, he turned to see what it was. There were two of the boys, seeing if they could lob a basketball over his helm, without hitting the ceiling. They tried again, and ended up smacking him in an optic. He snagged the ball before it hit the ground, and yelled at them as he checked his optic lens with his other hand to make sure it hadn't bee damaged. But the boys were unperturbed, they went to grab some paper to see if they could throw a crumpled up piece over his helm.

"Antonio, you suck!" one yelled, as the crumpled piece of paper hit Beachcomber on his chest armor.

"Ya pimp, you can't even get it half way over!" a red-headed boy snickered.

"Eat me," Antonio told them. Boldly, he jumped up on Beachcomber's leg, grabbed the crumbled paper 'ball', jumped back to the floor and tried again.

The mech tried to catch the paper 'ball', but it was too small and fell right out of his big hand. Again, he pleaded with the students to behave and sit down. Yet again he was completely ignored. Covering his audios with his hands, Beachcomber tried to think of just what he was supposed to do. These humans were completely out-of-control! Then he recalled the number that the little teacher had told him to call. Activating his radio, he connected to the school's phone system and dialed it. Desperation in his voice as he tried to tell her what was going on. He was forced to yell in order to be heard over the din.

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"Alright you slackers – SHUT UP!" a loud female voice yelled over the din.

In the blink of an optic, Beachcomber swore he could hear a pin drop in the gymnasium. Turning his head, he spied the tiny Mrs. Sims striding in. She had a very perturbed expression on her face.

"Get in your seats – NOW!" she ordered, glancing over at the crowd of girls who'd been chasing Chris, she glared at them. "And you three, do I need to write you up first thing in the morning – again?" she asked in a sarcastic tone.

The students muttered their apologies and shuffled to their seats, glaring a bit at the small woman.

Beachcomber looked at the woman in amazement. She was literally half the height of most of these high schoolers, yet they seemed to cower before her. As if she could physically pick them up and drag them to the office. "Thank you Mrs. Sims," he said to her, relief so evident in his tone.

She gave him a dismissive shrug as she glanced at every single student in the stands. "I hope I didn't offend you by coming by your class, but I know most of these young people," she stated. There were several 'u-huhs' from the students, and Beachcomber swore he saw a few of them cringe as her harsh gaze landed on them. "And I know how much misery they like to heap on subs and new teachers," she finished. She made a point to glare at specific students with the last statement.

"Um, not offended in the least ma-am - In fact, if you want the floor to show me what this classroom management thing is all about – I'd feel privileged!" he replied. His audios picked up muted groans with that statement. He wondered why the students seemed to act like it was painful to sit and be quiet. Perhaps he should ask Mrs. Sims about it during planning. He'd just never realized how much he DIDN'T know about dealing with human younglings!

Mrs. Sims crossed her arms and glared at the students. Then she proceeded to give them a harsh lecture concerning the topic of respect for the next ten minutes. Finishing up with the fact that IF Mr. Beachcomber felt the need to call her back in here – there was going to be some hinny's in the office waiting for their fathers to pick them up.

She winked at Beachcomber as she finished. "You owe me a lift to the coffee shop during planning," she said with a grin. After she left, the students were wonderful!

Beachcomber couldn't wait until planning period. He had so many questions to ask that tiny woman while he took her to the coffee shop!

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_**Note: **__This is a true 'Mary Sue' since I couldn't resist a little 'self insertion' on this chapter.. Granted, there's no love or fluff in it…Just an old teacher helping a new one… LOL_

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Please review…


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